


The Binding of Innes

by KumaraDosha



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Desperation, Gen, Humiliation, Omorashi, Public Humiliation, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:31:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KumaraDosha/pseuds/KumaraDosha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was obviously not how Innes March was expecting his morning to turn out. In fact, had he anticipated that the crew on the cargo ship transporting him would turn on him once they got out to sea, he never would have bought his way aboard in the first place.</p><p>His foot tapped anxiously on the floorboards as he watched the thieves rifle through his possessions. Though his captors had done nothing to harm him, his position was still quite uncomfortable. The ropes around his middle bore down on his still-full bladder he was never able to empty, and the security of his binds kept him from significantly moving or changing positions to ease that pressure. Would he be kept tied like this until they reached a pit stop? Surely he could reason with them on this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Binding of Innes

**Author's Note:**

> So my buddies (whom I hope NEVER find this) and I have constructed our own vastly detailed world and have been RP-ing via D&D some characters that we make up within the universe. Innes, here, is my most recent, an actor-bard. He was created via lifepath. This is my personal take on how he became enemies with a group of people and suffered a financial loss (plus humiliation). Note that I do have planned another, different omorashi version of how this thievery could have happened; let me know if anybody is interested?

This was obviously not how Innes March was expecting his morning to turn out. In fact, had he anticipated that the crew on the cargo ship transporting him would turn on him once they got out to sea, he never would have bought his way aboard in the first place. They had seemed like decent people– professional, no outstanding behavior that raised red flags in his mind, no known reputation to be wary of. Alas, here he was, tied from shoulders to ankles to the base of the ship’s mast. Innes had been on his way to relieve himself when two burly sailors grabbed him suddenly and securely from behind. There had been no use struggling; he was caught completely unawares, unarmed and outnumbered.

“I don’t want any trouble,” the captain had said in an almost soothing tone, “Just your things. We’re going to set you over here for now, but as soon as we near land, you’re free to go.” He patted the blonde on the shoulder as his subordinates dragged him to the mast. No amount of cajoling or guile would convince them to reconsider.

 His foot tapped anxiously on the floorboards as he watched the thieves rifle through his possessions. Though his captors had done nothing to harm him, his position was still quite uncomfortable. The ropes around his middle bore down on his still-full bladder he was never able to empty, and the security of his binds kept him from significantly moving or changing positions to ease that pressure. Would he be kept tied like this until they reached a pit stop? Surely he could reason with them on this.

“I assure you, gentlemen, such extreme measures against my sole person are not necessary. I wouldn’t dream of putting up a fight, particularly against the lot of you. Would it not be reasonable to simply keep me under watch or perhaps confined to another area of the ship?”

“Sorry, kid.” The captain’s low rasp could be distinguished among the murmurs of those ignoring his pleas. “Precautions are precautions. You never know who might be slipperier than you expect. ‘Sides, it won’t be too long now.”

“How long?” Innes persisted, wriggling subtly in distress.

The captain snorted, turning away again. “I’ll let you know.”

“Please...—ah! No, that’s--! That book, please; it is of little monetary value—just some scribblings of mine—but it means a lot to me personally!”

One of the men had found his prized possession, an enchanted book that, unbeknownst to the crew, was rumored to record one’s most memorable lines shortly before they are spoken.

“What’s this?” The sailor thumbed through a few pages full of quotes, uncomprehending.

“Like I said, just some random musings of mine. Think of it as a diary if you will—useless to any other person.” A pang of desperation caused him to tense, squeezing his thighs together and biting his lip.

“I don’t see why we should want to have this,” The captain spoke up again. “Let the man keep his memories.”

The book was shoved into a sack and tossed in Innes’ general direction. His relieved sigh was stifled by the increasing struggle inside him, muscles working to hold back several hours’ worth of hydration. The problem was getting quite serious. Surely he couldn’t bear to humiliate himself in front of his captors so. They had said it wouldn’t be long; he would just have to hold on. Fortunately, with the crew distracted, he was relatively free to at least fidget without fear of notice.

His legs jiggled, trying to create enough room to at least cross one over the other. He managed to overlap ankles, then shins...but the ropes would allow for no more. His hips shifted from side to side to assuage his growing need, but the motion was quickly proving insufficient. If only he could bend for his problem instead of standing straight. A low whine of frustration escaped through his nose, not loud enough for other ears.

“Perhaps if you could just untie me for a short period? This position is quite uncomfortable...” he attempted to bargain once again. No answer, save for one or two annoyed glances. It seemed he may be pressing his luck. Even so... “Ah... I really... Wish you could find it in your hearts to...” he trailed off quietly, his concentration disintegrating as he squirmed more urgently. Nobody was listening.

Sweat formed on his drawn brow, breath coming with more effort. The liquid inside him was heavy, pressing hard to escape, to the point that his legs trembled as they rubbed against each other rapidly. If he could just have one hand—no, one squeeze... But every time he tried to reach to grab himself, the rope pulled tighter against his midsection. He stroked the sides of his legs, anything to keep him from losing control. He could feel himself fatiguing, defenses weakening. He wasn’t going to make it—the alarmed thought sent panic down his spine.

“I...” he managed to whisper hoarsely, before his throat closed. He shook with effort as another wave of urgency hit him, urine slowly working its way past his defenses...and escaping with a short spurt, before he managed to stop it. He gasped, feeling a spot on his undergarments warm against his skin. His muscles burned with the small taste of relief, quivering in a loss of control as a small trickle began again, starting a soft stream, before he cut himself off abruptly again. Fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut, he panted miserably, a wet patch forming on the front of his white pants, barely visible through the spaced lines of rope.

His face flushed hot with embarrassment and exertion. He was having an accident—wetting himself right in front of everyone. His legs shifted and bounced to try to stave away the inevitable, a whimper escaping his lips as more urine dribbled from his tip. With each concentrated clench of his muscles, he was able to stem the flow, but each attempt grew less and less successful, warm trails making their way further down his leg with every surge. Soon, there was nothing stopping the liquid from hissing into his clothes in a full stream and pattering onto the floor in a puddle.

 Innes tilted his head to the sky, humiliated tears forming behind his eyes as his bladder released fully. For a moment, there was silence. And then...to Innes’ utter horror, raucous laughter filled his ears. The bandits were laughing at him! The tears slipped down his cheeks unbidden, as he tried, with no success, to hide the evidence of his condition.

“Well, why didn’t you say so!” came the boisterous chuckle of the captain. “You’ve gone and sullied my rope, mate!”

It was nearly another whole hour of utter torture that Innes had to stand in his own puddle, withstanding the teasing, mocking commentary of his captors, before the ship reached its drop-off point. He clutched his granted bag of meager supplies tightly to himself, willing his entire situation to just fade away, as they lowered him down into the water in the row boat.

“Oy! Just one more thing!” the captain called out cheerily. Grudgingly, Innes turned his baleful gaze upward...and was promptly hit in the face by a ragged set of fresh clothes.


End file.
